


love forever, love is free

by yellowvim



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Anger, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phase Four (Gorillaz), Phase Three (Gorillaz), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Stuart "2D" Pot, Sad with a Happy Ending, Shameless Smut, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowvim/pseuds/yellowvim
Summary: His hand is raised to knock; knuckles bruised, purple and blue. The same shade of blue as his hair. His skin is damp, from the almost fog. And his nose and cheeks have gone red from the bitter cold.-2D returns after disappearing for nearly two years. Your heart welcomes him, but your mind is reluctant.





	1. preface

**Author's Note:**

> This is un-beta'd, apologies for any errors!!

The air is wet, almost like a fog but not dense enough. It's damp and cold, and the best kind of weather.

It's the kind of weather 2D would grin and dip down to kiss you in. The kind that makes your heart ache. It makes your bed seem colder, emptier. It makes you wanna curl up and stay in bed.

So, you do. Only for a bit, at least.

You live and survive without him every single day. You can wallow today. You'll allow it, just for today.

You get up to throw on one of his old shirts and fix yourself a cup of coffee. And then you're in bed again, watching the city and emotionally aching all the way down to your bones.

You're coffee is cold before you even sip it, having been forgotten. It reminds you of 2D in a weird sense.

He always forgot about his coffee. Always had the same cup until noon, microwaved several time.

You don't microwave yours. You drink it cold, letting it wash over you. Remind you of what you had.

Today is a day of wallowing. He left again, for the second time. You miss him, but you don't really know if you want him to come back.

He's picked Murdoc over you so many times. Murdoc, not the band. He isn't choosing the band, which would be understandable. He's choosing Murdoc. He's doing it for Murdoc.

The sickly green of his skin flashes across your brain and you seize, anger melting across your skin.

That's enough wallowing, you decide. Once your thoughts drift to Murdoc, you're done with the self pity. Fuck him.

You shower, taking your time. Over thinking and anxiety ridden over 2D's well-being.

After, you dress yourself for the day, keeping 2D's shirt, the infamous Hello Kinky one. With a pair of jeans and a beanie, you're ready to start the day. Or, afternoon, rather.

The air in your lungs is forced out in a rush of breath when you open your front door.

"Oh,"

His hand is raised to knock; knuckles bruised, purple and blue. The same shade of blue as his hair. His skin is damp, from the almost fog. And his nose and cheeks have gone red from the bitter cold.

His hair is longer, unkempt. He has dark bruises blooming across his right cheek. He looks like he belongs six feet under, really.

Exhausted, nervous, alone.

His cheeks are sunken in, more than usual. And you would bet your left leg that his ribs peek out beneath his skin.

He sucks in a breath and purses his lips tightly. He smiles pitifully, directed more at himself than you, and then mutters a quick and breathless-

"Sorry,"


	2. one

"Sorry,"

His eyes slip down to look at your shirt and you wince.

His shirt. Of course you're wearing his shirt the day the world decides to drop him on your doorstep.

The fabric itches at your skin immediately. You wanna rip it off, tear it in two, and then take a million showers.

It's a long, awkward silence. When you step forward, he moves down a step. You do it again once, twice, three times until he's on the sidewalk and you're on the bottom step.

"Why are you here?" you finally speak and your voice cracks, sounding pathetic. He chest aches at how deflated you sound.

"I-I-" his eyes move to your shirt again and you scowl.

"You can't have it back," you grumble, zipping your sweatshirt up over Hello Kinky's face. He breathes a quiet laugh and puts his hands up in a surrender.

"I don't want it back," he laughs again, "Looks far better on you than it ever has on me."

You want to laugh at his half-assed compliment, but you don't. You purse your lips and walk around him.

"W-wait! Wait, please, I-"

"Don't look at me, don't even breathe on me!" you yelp, eyes wide when you hear your neighbors yell to shut up.

2D gnaws on his lips, eye trains on his hands.

"Please, I just- can we go get a cuppa? I just wanna explain,"

You chew on your own lips, a habit you developed over a period of time of being around him. You only noticed after reading somewhere that couples pick up each other's habits after a couple months of being together. It was weird knowing how much he had rubbed off on you.

Its another long silence, more tense than awkward this time. You nod and then realize he's still not looking at you.

"Yeah," you mutter, scoffing a laugh when he looks at you, "Fine. You're paying."

The walk to the cafe is awkward and uncomfortable.

Almost as uncomfortable as the tension that curls its fingers around your shoulders when you're sitting in a booth by a window.

2D's eyes stay trained on the menu, not really reading it. Just looking at it.

To an untrained eye you look like friends, maybe even lovers, spending time with one another. Catching up after a busy week. Nobody bat's an eye. Except the waitress that has to practically force herself in your barrier of tension and anxiety. She curls up almost, a mousy little thing, greeting you with a small smile.

2D returns it and greets her too, always a polite one he was.

"Can I get you some drinks?" she's hesitant to interrupt the quiet. 2D and you both smile, letting her nerves settle.

"Can I have peppermint tea please, love?" 2D's eyes flicker to the menu again, almost bouncing with excitement for his favorite flavor of tea.

"Make that two," you mutter, not even bothering to look at the menu. The girl nods and says something that you don't hear. Her eyes linger on the bruise blooming under 2D's eye. He flushes and turns, which makes her flush too. When you look up again, she's scurried off to make your drinks.

"So, why are you here?" it's a question you've asked him every time he appears on your doorstep. Usually, you'd asked it on a quiet, excited voice. This time it's monotonous, low. It reminds you of how Murdoc talks at 2D and you feel a pang of guilt.

He fidgets and his tongue peeks out to lick his lips.

"The band's takin' a break- a hiatus, of-of sorts. I suppose," he hums a quiet sound, like he's thinking, and then blinks up at you. "I know I don't deserve another chance. I wrecked that soon as I left. I know-"

He's rambling and you smile because it's incredibly, unfairly cute and one of the millions of reasons you had fallen in love with him.

You realize he's stopped talking and blink to focus your eyes again. He's smiling softly at you and his eyes are doing that squinty thing that he does in every music video that every one of his fans says is adorable. And you feel a pang of hurt bloom across your chest.

You tea is set down in front of you, pulling you from your daze. 2D makes a startled noise and you laugh, thanking the waitress.

"Any food for you today?" she smiles brightly at you, the tension fading the longer you're in his presence.

"Oh, I'm actually not very hungry," you say, picking up the menu to hand to her. 2D nods in a agreement with you and the waitress smiles.

"No problem, I'll leave a menu here for you to look over if you change your mind," she steps to another table and you peer back at 2D.

"So, a hiatus,"

He nods.

"For a good bit, too," he adds, "Murdoc said probably a couple'a years."

"Are you coming to me for me or for a bed and a place to stay?" the way you say it comes of colder than intended. You feel bad immediately after and sigh, scrubbing your hands over your face. "I'm sorry, I just- you hurt me. So badly. And I'm trying to be mad but I'm not because I love you. But, I am at the same time because you love Murdoc more than me, or you care about more than me at least, and I-"

"I-I don't! I don't, I left because I love you more than him. I don't love him, I despise him. He would've hurt you to get to me and I wouldn't have been able to live with myself," he drums his fingers against his cup, "Hell, I'm barely able to live with myself now, knowing _I_ hurt you."

2D has this permanent sad face. You'd grown used to it after a while. His eyes always have bags under them, his cheeks were always sunken. He always looked sad because he pretty much always is sad.

But, the way he looks right now in this moment? It's ten levels worse than sad and it shatters your heart.


	3. two

You decide to get food, after about twenty minutes and three more cups of tea. You get a sandwich, he gets the same. The waitress smiles gently at you when she catches you watching 2D like he's art hanging in a museum.

2D snickers when you flush and you kick his seat with a blush and laugh. 

For a second, you forget he's been gone. You heart forgets the pain it went through, your soul pretends it doesn't feel the ache he left behind. Your mind reminds you immediately, and your soul stings for a moment. Your chest tightens, and your smile fades as quickly as it showed up.

It feels like the universe is against you, because in that moment On Melancholy Hill starts seeping through the speakers. You know, logically, it's because someone that works here recognized 2D. But, you still feel betrayed by the world nonetheless.

2D looks embarrassed almost, and slides down in his seat. His knees knock yours and he stills, watching you. 

"We can leave," he mutters, twisting his hands together. You shake your head, pick at the plastic the teabag came in, and take a breath.

"I'm fine," you shrug. You squint up and watch a couple kiss across the street. You rethink his suggestion and look at him, "Unless you wanna leave?"

"I'm- no, I'm good," he smiles, more like he's reassuring himself than you. It's works either way. 

The food is set of the table, along with more tea for both of you. You eat in the first comfortable silence. You grin and pluck a fry off of 2D's plate, suddenly regretting getting chips instead of French Fries with your sandwich. 2D either doesn't notice or doesn't mind.

"Where's the rest of the band?"

"Oh, here and there," he shrugs, "I don't know, and really don't care, where Mudz is. Noodle is in Japan last I heard. And I think Russ went to Canada."

"What's he doin' there?"

"I think a couple'a friends invited him, I'm not sure," 2D wipes his hands on his pants and mutters, "He ain't much off a talker, is he? Never tells me anythin' anymore."

You snort. 2D and Russell were always such an odd pair. They never really looked like two men that would be friends, and yet they are best friends.

You take a minute to think. You sit straight, sigh, then look at him.

"What are you doing here?" you're pleading more than asking. What led him to your doorstep? Why did he seek you out? Why did he leave in the first place?

Frustration curls around your veins making your heart speed up. You're furious all of the sudden, hands fisted so tightly your knuckles are white and nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood.

"W-well," he hesitates and it makes you livid. You slam money onto table top even though he said he would pay. With a flurry of emotion, you're out the door stomping down the sidewalk.

You get half a block away before he's shouting you're name and moving around people to catch up with you.

"What? What do you want? You want me to invite you back into my life with open arms? You want me to just let you move in again?" you pant and cross your arms. You're flushed to your roots in embarrassment from yelling in public, on the street no less.

"What do you want from me?" your voice is timid and exhausted.

"I want to try again," 2D exhales, taking your hands in his. "I just wanna try again, love."

You don't know what to say, you just know he's too close. You rip your hands from his, wrapping your arms around yourself instead.

He looks so broken, so sad. So like himself.

"Do you have a place to stay?" you mutter bitterly. He shakes his head and you close your eyes. With a shaky breath you muster up enough breath to say, "You can crash on my couch. That's it though. I need time and-and a little bit of space, okay?"

He nods, agrees with you a million times. And he keeps his end of the agreement.

He gives you time, and plenty of space. You don't know if you like it. One part of you wants him to be near you all the time. You're afraid to get too close though, which is understandable.

Everything is awkward. He tip toes around you for everything. He asks before he touches anything. He's polite, too polite.

Eventually you get him to relax. You make him eat some food. His skin is pulled tight across his chest, ribs peeking through. You feel nauseous, and have to force yourself to not cry. You don't want him to feel bad about this. This isn't the first time you've seen him like this. And as much as you wish it not too be true, you know it'll happen again.

He's a delicate creature.

If you pull too hard, he'll unravel in the palm of your hand.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on wattpad - yellowvim


End file.
